Blizzards
by FiwiKruit
Summary: Sam and Dean get trapped in a blizzard. And thus ensues the chaos. Explicit Wincest.


**Disclaimer; Supernatural does not belong to me, nor will it ever belong to me. All I own is the writing.**

**Warning; Explicit Wincest - please don't read if it'll offend you.**

xxx

"We're not gonna get out of here, so please stop pacing," Dean snapped from where he was sitting, curled up in one corner. Sam threw him an annoyed look.

"It's keeping me warm. _Someone_ hogged the only blanket," he shot back, but he stopped anyway. He never could say no to Dean.

"I offered to share…" Dean shrugged, opening the blanket to make space for his brother.

"Are you being serious? I'm not going anywhere you."

"Well that's just rude." Dean pouted and looked away. He knew he was being stupid but really, he had no other way to cope with the situation.

"Dean, you were the one that lost the map, which meant we ended up lost in the middle of a blizzard." Sam ran his hand through his hair and slumped to the ground, back against the wall. "And now we're stuck in some run down old cabin that could collapse at any time, with nothing to do but sit here and fight."

Dean looked around and nodded slowly.

"Just like old times, eh?" His face broke into a grin and he looked back at Sam. His little brother's face was deadpan, and Dean could feel his mood dropping. "Lighten up, Sammy. This fucker will pass in a few hours and we'll be on our way again. No big deal."

"I'm not talking to you, Dean." Sam shut his eyes and leant his head back against the wall. Dean was right, much as he hated to admit it – this _was_ just like the old times. Only in the 'old times' there wouldn't have been the awkward space between them, because Sam would've been able to curl up next to his brother without worrying about the sexual tension that was sure to be there, and the unrequited feelings hanging between them that were sure to fuck everything up.

It took maybe an hour for Dean to work up the courage to slide over to Sam and drape the blanket over his body. And even then, he hesitated until Sam shivered violently, letting out a sharp gasp. He knew Sam didn't want to be anywhere near him, and he knew Sam was too damn proud to accept the blanket, but he also knew that without it, Sam would freeze to death. Or, at least, catch something nasty. And much as Dean would've enjoyed playing nurse to his brother, he was fairly sure Sam would hate being bed-ridden for weeks.

"I don't want your freaking blanket, Dean," Sam murmured, as predictable as ever.

"Yeah, well you're getting it anyway, Sammy. Can't have you getting ill on us, can we?" Dean shot his brother a tired smile, bending down to tuck the edges of the rough sheet around his brother.

"You'll get cold."

"I can cope. Now stop complaining." Dean slapped Sam's hands lightly as he attempted to pull the sheet off of himself, shooting his brother a glare.

"Dean. Dean, stop it. Dean-"

"Just let me do this, okay?"

"Why should I get the blanket?" Sam asked softly, trying to catch Dean's hands and pull them away.

"Because I'm the older brother and I look out for you," Dean replied, pulling his hands out of Sam's grasp.

"That's not a good reason," Sam complained and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Well unless you want to share, you're gonna have to deal with it, cause I'm not gonna sit there and watch you freeze."

Sam shut up, dropping his eyes to the floor. Dean hesitated, then rose to his feet and turned to walk back to his corner.

"Share with me then. Please." He froze, eyes sliding closed as he tried to steady his breathing.

Dean glanced back and caught Sam's eyes, searching for some sign that this was a joke. Sam nodded.

"I'm not letting you freeze either." His voice shook slightly, but Dean had the courtesy to ignore it. He took another deep breath and walked back over to his brother, who opened the blanket out for him.

Dean slid in next to his brother, trying his hardest not to touch him in too many places. Sam's proximity was intoxicating – but he couldn't hold him like he wanted to, and it ached. "Is this okay?" he breathed, not quite meeting Sam's eyes.

Sam exhaled slowly and moved closer, pressing his body into Dean's. His brother's eyes widened momentarily, but then he draped his arm over Sam's shoulders, twisting slightly so Sam could be more comfortable. Sam buried his face in Dean's neck, inhaling his brother's smell and pretending nothing had changed, and they were still in love.

For one moment – one shining, beautiful moment – it worked. The scent of old leather and soap and aftershave his brother was giving off filled Sam's mind, erasing the little common sense he had left. Dean's arm was heavy and warm around his shoulders, their bodies fitting together perfectly, just like they always had done. And there was nothing Sam could do to stop himself from tilting his head back and dropping one chaste kiss on Dean's throat.

Dean stiffened, heart leaping into his throat. Sam's lips pressed into his skin again, tongue darting out to taste the hot skin. His brother hummed softly, a smile curving across his face, his mind half delirious from sleep. It didn't matter that they'd been fighting, it didn't matter that he was supposed to hate Dean. Sam had missed his brother's body.

His mouth slid slowly up from the base of Dean's neck, brushing along his cheekbone with breathtaking slowness. Dean couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He was terrified that the slightest twitch would shake Sam out of it, and then his brother would be on the other side of the room before he could blink. And that was the last thing he wanted.

So he held himself perfectly still as Sam's lips pressed lightly onto the corner of his mouth, tongue flicking to wet it. Dean swallowed softly, turning his head, just an inch or two, and caught his brother's cheek.

"Please," Sam breathed the word, his soft exhale brushing over Dean's lips. Another swallow, his thumb massaging the silky skin of his brother's face. Sam's eyes held his gaze, desire burning through the chocolate stare. Dean could feel the last few strands of self-control stretching to breaking point.

And then Sam leaned forwards, stilling as his mouth met Dean's. "Please," he murmured again, the movement of his lips forcing Dean's mouth open, and those last few strands snapped. Dean's hand slid up into Sam's hair, pulling him closer, his tongue pushing into Sam's mouth and sweeping across one cheek. Sam moaned, breathless, pushing his body closer to Dean's. He had no idea what was going on, what had gotten into his little brother, but there was no way he was going to complain; he'd wanted this.

"I missed you," Sam whispered into Dean's mouth, "So much. Missed your-" he cut himself off with a moan as Dean's tongue tangled around his own, tugging it into Dean's mouth, "Your kiss. How you used to touch me. How you used to moan my name."

Dean groaned softly, his free hand moving down to Sam's waist and pulling his brother onto his lap, bucking his hips up to meet his straining erection.

"Stop talking, idiot," he panted lightly, smiling into Sam's mouth, and Sam laughed, a manic sound.

Dean's hands were working at Sam's top, pushing it up his body as their mouth met again, a furious clash of teeth and tongues. He ran his hand up Sam's stomach, tracing familiar patterns between the muscles, pressing his palm flat against one perfect pec. His fingers bent as Sam pressed his teeth into Dean's lower lip, nails digging into the tan skin. Sam hissed, tongue sliding across the abused lip and into Dean's mouth. Dean closed his lips around the muscle and sucked, one finger circling Sam's nipple lazily. Sam keened lowly, hips thrusting downwards into Dean's.

"Fuck," Dean gasped out, releasing his brother's tongue and letting his head drop back against the wall. Sam buried his head in Dean's neck, running his tongue along the veins there. His hands worked at Dean's belt, fingers shaking slightly as he pulled it open and slid the buttons out of their holes. He wasn't sure if it was the cold or the nerves causing his trembles, but he knew he didn't want to stop. His lips closed around Dean's Adam's apple, sucking on it softly, as he slid Dean's jeans slowly down his legs. Dean let out a groan, the sound vibrating into Sam's mouth, and lifted his hips, allowing Sam to pull the jeans off completely.

Dean looked up, breathing heavy, as Sam's mouth left his throat, and watched as his brother tugged off his own jeans, pulling his boxers with them. Sam's hands caught the bottom of his shirt and he paused for a second, then took that off too, and sat, legs straddling Dean, completely naked. The blanket had been abandoned somewhere in the middle of their kisses, but neither of them cared, the adrenaline and lust coursing through their blood keeping them warm.

Sam's hands unbuttoned Dean's shirt and he pushed it off Dean's shoulders slowly, leaning forward into his brother's bare chest. When he'd finished, their faces were an inch apart, mouths ghosting over each other.

"Last chance to back out," Dean breathed, running a hand along Sam's hip. Sam shook his head, hands clenching on Dean's stomach.

"Never again," he replied softly, dropping his mouth onto Dean's and flattening his palms against his brother's tense torso. Their kiss was slow and soft, tongues dragging together, a gentle burn spreading through them, igniting in their blood. Perfection.

Sam lowered his hips, naked groin brushing against Dean's as he thrust forward slowly. Another groan burst from Dean's lips, Sam swallowing it down as he pulled his hips back and pushed them forward again, long, steady movements. There was something heavenly about the way their bodies moved together, no penetration, nothing but Sam's steady rocking. It was simple; pure emotion radiating from them both as they kissed in the blurred, white light of the blizzard.

When Sam pulled his mouth from Dean's, Dean couldn't keep back a soft whimper of loss. Sam's nose nuzzled into his collarbone, pressing light kisses to his skin. He slid slowly down Dean's legs, mouth sliding down his chest and stomach, tongue tracing patterns with no meaning and so much meaning at the same time.

"Missed this," he whispered into Dean's hips as though sharing all the secrets of the world, "Missed you." Dean gasped softly, hips bucking into his brother, unable to form a coherent reply.

Sam's lips touched the tip of Dean's erection in a chaste kiss, beads of pre-come smearing across his lips. His tongue flickered out, pressing into the slit, sliding down to one side. Dean moaned as Sam's tongue ghosted along the sensitive skin, following the vein along the underside, hands fisting in his brother's long hair. Sam was barely touching him, mouth moving back to the tip and closing around it slowly, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. His head dipped lower, teasing Dean with gentle strokes of his tongue.

And then he pulled back, shooting Dean a look filled with so much love and adoration and trust before breathing in deeply and lowering his mouth again, head dropping so low Dean could feel his cock hit the back of his neck. It felt so good, enclosed in the warmth of Sam's mouth as it constricted around him, Sam's breathy moans sending vibrations running up his entire body. His brother drew back, teeth scraping lightly along Dean's skin, and then bobbed his head even lower, sucking and moaning and tonguing with just the right pressure, just the right speed. His hand slid down from Dean's stomach to his legs, pulling them further apart, and then his fingers caught Dean's balls, cupping them, squeezing them, fingertips massaging them gently, and Dean came apart, his world exploding as his orgasm rushed over him in heady waves, stealing his breath away.

Sam crawled back up his body and smiled, pressing their mouth together again. Dean could taste himself on his brother's tongue as his lips parted and Sam moaned his name, soft and sultry. Sam's hand caught Dean's, dragged it down his body to the erection still pressed between them, whispering his name over and over, like a prayer.

Dean's fingers closed around Sam's cock, thumb stroking across the slit at the tip slowly, then his fist slid down to the base. He squeezed softly and drew his hand back up, caressing his brother with long, languid strokes and gentle tugs. Sam's breath hitched, biting down on a lip – by that stage he couldn't tell if it was his or Dean's. He writhed slowly, eyes half-shut and nails digging into Dean's shoulders.

It didn't take long for Sam to stiffen and curse lowly, his body tensing. Dean watched as his brother came, his eyes filling with warmth so strong it stole his breath away. His hand continued stroking, milking every last burst from Sam as he squirmed and relaxed above Dean, mouth fighting for air. When it was done, Sam collapsed onto Dean's chest, body heaving as he gulped in huge lungfuls of air.

"Don't leave me, ever again," Dean whispered fiercely into Sam's hair, pressing a hard kiss to his head. Sam nodded, too tired to reply. Dean reached across, caught the blanket, wrapped it around them then pulled Sam closer, arms slung around his shoulders, hugging him tightly as the wind howled around them.


End file.
